


Coming Home

by UninspiredPoet



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort Sex, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Military AU, NSFW, Non-Overwatch Universe AU, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:07:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninspiredPoet/pseuds/UninspiredPoet
Summary: Fareeha is just returning home from a six-month deployment overseas, and she's made a stop at her wife's clinic to surprise her.Or: Fareeha has been missing her wife and deserves a little strap. As a treat.
Relationships: Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 20
Kudos: 134





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chibikotan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibikotan/gifts).



Angela was nervous.

It was a strangely unfamiliar feeling. She was a doctor, after all. She'd worked in emergency rooms, she'd done more life-saving surgeries than she could count, and she was far too old to be nervous about this.

But...she hadn't seen Fareeha in six months. And she was due home any day now. She'd made it through deployment after deployment. For years, now. 

Angela mused over how she used to stay up nights worrying until Fareeha had promised to let her know each evening that she was just fine

A ritual they'd maintained for the duration of their relationship, and subsequent marriage.

Just last night, Angela had heard her wife's voice. Quiet and low through the receiver and slightly staticky like it almost always was when she was overseas. She'd heard the same 'I'm fine. I miss you. Go to sleep.' That she'd heard every night since...well. 

Angela chuckled to herself when she realized they'd missed their five year wedding anniversary last month, and she sighed as she turned the corner into her office and found her place in her leather-upholstered chair behind her desk.

It wasn't that she needed a break. No, those high-pressure, low-sleep jobs were behind her now. She had her own clinic. 

No, Angela didn't need a break. 

She just needed to be alone for a moment so she could look at the little framed photo on her desk. It had been taken on their wedding day. 

Angela could only just see Fareeha’s dress uniform near the bottom of the frame, but that wasn't what always caught her eye. What caught her eye, was the way they were looking at each other.

Like nothing else mattered...even though it did. Fareeha had insisted Angela marry her just weeks before her first deployment. She'd used so many things to rationalize the request. 

But Angela hadn't needed the rationalizations. She didn't need the promise of Fareeha’s pension. She had always provided for herself just fine.

No, she'd just needed Fareeha. She'd wanted so terribly to find a way to keep more of the other woman with her when she left. She'd wanted so terribly to give her more of a reason to make it home safe. 

She liked to tell herself that it had worked. Just like she sometimes thumbed idly at the wedding band on her finger when she knew Fareeha was a million miles away trying to sleep under god only knew what circumstances. She liked to tell herself Fareeha was touching her own. The silicone one she had to wear overseas, because she refused to not wear one. 

Yes. Angela was nervous.

Just like the first time, and every time in between.

The good kind of nervous that, unfortunately, left her unfocused and anxious as a result.

Her attention shifted from that framed photo to a nurse standing in her doorway offering her a sympathetic smile. 

“Patient in room four is ready for you. Feeling up to it?” She asked softly, and Angela offered her a reassuring smile. 

“Always.” 

“It’s your last one for the day, and you know we don’t need you here after that, right?” The nurse continued with a lift of her brow. 

“I might just take you up on that for once.” Angela said as she stood and pulled her stethoscope from the front pocket of her coat to hang it around her neck. Within moments, she was walking down one of the two halls of her clinic and reaching for a chart hanging in the plastic organizer mounted next to the door. 

She opened it just like every other chart - cradled in one hand, leaving the other one to flip through the pages. Only she couldn’t make it past the patient information sheet. 

She couldn’t make it past ‘Fareeha Amari-Ziegler’. She read the name a handful of times before she looked around to find herself suspiciously alone on the hall. Suspiciously alone, and trying to work past the lump in her throat and the rapid beating of her heart. 

Her hand was shaking when she reached to open the door, forgoing her usual knock-first routine and standing stock-still when her eyes landed on her wife perched on the examination table with her pack laying on the ground at her feet beneath the sand-colored combat boots she was laced into. 

She was still in uniform. Sleeves rolled perfectly around biceps that always came back just on the edge of too-toned after months of doing little else aside from working and working out and perhaps not the best selection of food. 

All these things meant that Fareeha had come here to the clinic straight from the airport. She hadn’t bothered to go home and get comfortable. She hadn’t stopped to have a much-missed meal or anything else. 

She’d come straight here. Straight to Angela. 

And she was on her feet the moment Angela dropped her wife’s chart on the floor and rushed forward right into her arms. She expected to be lifted from her feet, and she was. But not so high that she couldn’t bury her face in Fareeha’s neck and breathe her in as deeply as she could manage. 

Underneath the slight tinge of ‘I came here first instead of showering’, she still smelled like she should. She still smelled like she always had underneath it all. And maybe that’s when it really hit home that she was back if the quiet sob Angela released into her wife’s neck was anything to go by. 

“I’m home,” Fareeha whispered into Angela’s hair as she kept holding her so tightly Angela was finding it difficult to breathe, not that she cared. “My flight left a day early.” 

“You called me from the airport last night, not the base.” Angela accused quietly as Fareeha finally lowered her back onto her feet. 

“You caught me.” Fareeha responded softly as she lifted her hands to cradle Angela’s face. Her palms were rough. Angela didn’t need to look at them to know that they were probably cracked in some places and it would take days of Fareeha getting back into her proper routines to repair the damage. 

And for a moment it was all Angela could do just to look into her wife’s eyes. Into the dark, soft adoration of them as she wrapped her hands around Fareeha’s wrists. 

This was the part Angela would never get used to. Seeing Fareeha after months and months apart. Months that felt, for all intents and purposes, like forever. 

“Look at you.” Angela whispered with a weak smile as she reached up to run her fingers through Fareeha’s hair and then down to stroke along her toned forearms. The sun had darkened her skin significantly in their months apart. She looked like some sort of goddess come to life. 

But maybe that was just the extended loneliness talking. 

Regardless, Angela pulled Fareeha’s head down and pressed a series of kisses across her face that had Fareeha chuckling quietly by the time she was done. 

“You’re acting like you missed me or something.” She joked as she slid her arms around Angela’s back. But there was a gentleness in the tone of her voice. Maybe a little bit of an apology, like there always was. As though Angela hadn’t signed up for all of this years ago. As though they hadn’t been through this countless times. 

But this time was different. 

This was Fareeha’s last deployment for at a year, or so she’d been promised. Not only that, but Fareeha had been permanently stationed here. Here in this town where Angela had finally been able to realize her dream of operating her own clinic.

They’d struggled to get here. God, had they struggled. 

But all the fights and all the longing and disappointments had been worth it to get here. They were in the past. And they’d made it. Over and over again, they’d made it. 

“I’m taking you home, yes?” Angela whispered as she tugged gently at the front of Fareeha’s uniform to keep her close. 

“Please,” Fareeha replied as she ran her hands along Angela’s back over her coat. “There’s nowhere else I want to be right now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometimes it was hard not to think about certain things at times like these. Times when Fareeha was holding her hand over the center console of the car so tightly that it almost hurt.

All Angela could do was stroke gently over her knuckles with the side of her thumb as her wife stared out the window. That, and wonder what she was thinking about. 

Was she thinking about flying? Or was she thinking about something awful? 

“Penny for your thoughts.” Angela finally said as she lifted Fareeha’s hand to place a kiss against it. 

Fareeha turned a brave face in Angela’s direction and offered her a smile. “Too many to count.” She responded, and Angela gave her hand a soft squeeze before returning her attention to the road. 

“I know you aren’t happy about being grounded.” Angela finally said, and Fareeha’s gaze fell and then turned back towards the window. “I’m sorry that I’m selfishly pleased that you are.” 

“I’ll be instructing.” Fareeha responded in an attempt to reassure her. “I won’t be totally flightless.” 

“My pilot…” Angela murmured idly with a faint smile as she lowered their hands again. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”

“I’ll adapt,” Fareeha responded easily. “I always do.” 

“I know you do.” Angela agreed softly, glancing down as Fareeha’s hand slipped from her own and moved to rest against her thigh. 

She cleared her throat quietly and stroked Fareeha’s forearm. “We’ll be home soon.” She murmured as her wife’s fingertips trailed a little higher. 

It took every ounce of willpower she had not to pull the car into the nearest alley. 

Six months was such a long time. 

Too long. 

“I’m sorry,” Fareeha whispered as she pulled her hand back towards the top of Angela’s thigh. “I’m sure you have dinner planned or…” Fareeha swallowed thickly and shook her head at herself. 

“You’re acting as though I’m not thinking the same thing you are,” Angela responded with a quiet, slightly breathless chuckle. 

“You’ve been fantasizing about being pawed at by your wife - who has suddenly turned into a hormonal teenager?”

“Suddenly?” Angela asked as she cast a sly look in Fareeha’s direction just in time to catch her responding pout. 

But they were already pulling into the driveway, so there wasn’t much time for Fareeha to have to struggle to come up with a clever response. 

She wasn’t sure she’d be able to, anyway. It was taking everything in her just to collect her pack from the back seat and make it to their front door. 

Everything was all so overwhelming at first. From the coolness of the air conditioning to just the smell of home. The smell of Angela and the smell of the life they’d built together. 

She was lost for a moment. And, as if she’d been prepared for this moment - which she had - Angela moved behind her and leaned against her back and wrapped her arms around her middle. 

“You’re home,” Angela whispered. “And I’m not letting you go anywhere for a while.” 

Fareeha nodded faintly and slowly turned in Angela’s arms. “Get me out of this.” 

But she needn’t have asked. 

Angela was already unfastening the buttons along the front of her wife’s uniform and pushing it aside so that it fell on the floor rather unceremoniously despite all its patches and ribbons and ranks. So that they could finally stop mattering. So that she could belong to Angela first and everything else second. 

And Angela knew that’s what she needed. It was what she always needed. 

“Do you remember when we met?” Angela asked in a whisper as she ran her hands up the front Fareeha’s chest over her undershirt. The dog tags came next. But they weren’t removed right away. Angela placed a kiss against them first before lifting them over her wife’s head and sitting them aside carefully on the sofa table they were standing near. “At that little bar in Lausanne? I think you’d just gotten your wings.” She interspersed the recollection with a soft kiss just beneath Fareeha’s ear as she untucked the undershirt she’d been touching over. 

“You were so cocky. You really thought you were sweeping some local girl off her feet.” Fareeha was smiling as she tilted her head to the side. It was a good memory. It was one of her favorites.

“I was trying to pick up the country’s best doctor and I had no idea.” Fareeha murmured as Angela murmured a laugh into her skin and lifted her undershirt slowly. 

“And then she picked you up, instead…” Angela teased as Fareeha lifted her arms for her shirt to be discarded onto the floor. 

“How was I supposed to know?” Fareeha asked on the tail end of a shuddering exhale of breath that had resulted from the feeling of the softness of Angela’s hands sliding slowly along the cuts of muscle along her stomach.

“You told me I had the nicest hands you'd ever seen.” Angela whispered against Fareeha’s collarbone, drawing a soft moan out of the younger woman. 

“Doctors always have nice hands.” Fareeha responded breathlessly as she reached to begin unclamping her own belt before Angela even had a chance to. 

“You didn't know that then, I take it?” Angela asked as she brushed Fareeha’s hands away and began backing her towards their bedroom, her eyes locked with her wife’s as she reached to stroke along either side of her face. 

“I know it now.” Fareeha’s voice was quiet as her boots marked the sound of their path through the living room. “I missed you, Ang. So much.”

“I missed you every second of every day you were away from me.” Angela reassured as they passed the threshold of their bedroom door.

Soon enough, Fareeha felt the backs of her thighs hitting the edge of their mattress and she was tugging at Angela’s hips so strongly that it caused her to stumble against her, slightly over her on the bed.

“Shh, Fareeha…” Angela said as she reached once again for her wife's hands so she could regain her balance. “You want me to take care of you? Like I always do? Like I always will?”

The sensation of Angela’s fingertips trailing along the underside of her jaw in order to lift her chin was enough to make chill bumps rise along her arms.  
That was exactly what Fareeha wanted. To be taken care of. To let go. To forget the past six months of her life for a little while.

“Yes.” She responded simply as Angela ran the backs of her fingers down the front of Fareeha’s throat. “Please.”

Angela leaned forward and caught that quiet plea with her lips - chasing it from Fareeha’s with her own in a gentle, slow kiss. 

“You don't need to say that to me.” She whispered against the fullness of her wife’s lips even as her hands finished unfastening the belt Fareeha had already started on in the living room. “Okay? Not right now. Let go. I promise I've got you.”

Fareeha’s belt and pants were riding low on her hips now. Low enough that Angela could stroke the strong lines of her hips. 

Fareeha returned the kiss then, and took a moment to gather her thoughts with Angela leaning into her all the while - a warm, solid, comforting presence. 

“Can you tell me what you need?” Angela finally asked as she pulled Fareeha’s hips closer to her own, lifting them up enough to get her pants down her thighs. 

“I need you to fuck me.” Fareeha murmured as she drew one of her thighs up onto the bed while Angela went to work in the laces of her boots easily despite the intricate way they were wrapped and tucked. Like riding a bike. Like they hadn't just spent half a year apart. 

The boots were tossed aside followed quickly by the pants and the briefs Fareeha favored. Angela’s clothes wound up on the floor in similar disarray as then Angela was moving over her - pulling her along beneath herself over the bed until she was settled between Fareeha's thighs and taking a moment to look down at her in what little light left outside was filtering into the bedroom through the curtains. 

Fareeha was panting quietly as Angela passed the pad of her thumb across her lips, and Angela offered her a warm smile. “I can do that.” 

“I know.” Fareeha responded simply before pressing a kiss to Angela’s thumb. 

Angela had always loved these little reminders that Fareeha trusted her this deeply. That she could leave all the burdens that bowed her back at their bedroom door and trust Angela to keep them at bay. 

But Angela could tell Fareeha was running short on patience by the way her hips shifted up against her own subtly. Even if she wouldn't say so. 

So Angela leaned down and began leaving a molten trail behind her lips down the center of Fareeha's chest. She brushed them over a new scar. One that hadn't been there when she'd left. A quiet acknowledgment that wasn't prying so much as it was reverent. 

“Hard?” She husked against Fareeha’s ribs before dragging the tip of her nose slowly back up until her lips were grazing an already hardened nipple.

Blue eyes flashed up to catch Fareeha’s as her lips closed and she sucked at it gently for a moment before letting go and replacing the loss of stimulation with a fingertip - trailing slowly through the glistening wetness her mouth had left behind. “Or do you want me to be gentle?” 

“Both.” Fareeha’s response came along with a shuddering breath as her abs tensed and her hips flexed again just from what Angela was already doing. 

Angela lifted herself more fully this time and pressed a passing kiss against Fareeha’s lips as she leaned over her to pull their harness from the nightstand. A little bottle of lubricant followed and was tossed onto the bed as Angela hovered over her wife while she strapped herself into the contraption with practiced ease.

“I love you.” Fareeha whispered as she watched all this with burning heat darkening the skin of her cheeks as she tried not to clench her thighs around Angela’s hips in order to give her the room she needed.

Angela leaned back over her and Fareeha felt the solid length of the toy now attached to Angela as it was pinned between their stomachs. “I love you, too, Fareeha. With all of me. With everything that I am.” 

As she spoke, Angela was spreading Fareeha’s legs further and lowering herself down the length of the younger woman’s body until she was settled between her legs. She pressed her lips against dark curls of hair and kneaded at her thighs when she felt them begin to tremble against her hands.

Fareeha was already on edge when Angela began nuzzling at her, and when the warmth and silk of her tongue began to slide against her already slick skin to circle gently around her clit, a choked, quiet noise fell from her lips. 

Fareeha’s hand shot to Angela’s hair, tangling in what little of it was hanging free from her hair tie and tugging to keep her where she was.

It wasn't that Fareeha wanted to come so quickly. It was that she needed to. It was that she hadn't been afforded the same privacy Angela had for all these months apart, and her entire body was aflame with the overwhelming ache of it all. 

And Angela knew all those things. That's why she wrapped her arms around her wife’s thighs to keep her as still as she could so she could lap slowly at her clit in long, warm strokes that weren't overwhelming. Deft, practiced movements that would get Fareeha where she needed to be quickly. 

Angela knew her wife was close when those strong hands began gripping her hair a little too tightly and then fell to the sheets instead to ball the thin material into her fists in a way that would likely tear them, but that was fine.

Angela only cared about one thing right now, and when Fareeha’s breathing and groaning stopped altogether and she was nothing but full-body tremors and choked stilted gasps, she knew she'd found her mark. 

It was almost desperate, the way Fareeha came. Almost forced, as she pressed down into Angela’s mouth and her entire body went rigid. And it was quiet. Fareeha was always quiet the first time. 

Angela had learned to pick up on other cues. Like the way her wife’s body all but melted into the bed as her hips twitched almost violently away from the heat of her mouth, overstimulated and no longer used to the attention. 

It was then that Angela released her thighs and ran her hands along them as she trailed kisses slowly up the center of Fareeha’s tensing stomach and heaving chest until she got to her neck, where she stayed for a moment to give the other woman a chance to breathe. 

Fareeha’s nails had found her back by then. They'd left trails of pink along pale skin in their wake before digging in to pull Angela closer because she just needed to be close right then. She needed Angela to murmur soft reassurances against her too-hot skin and trail her fingertips along her heaving sides until she could gather her thoughts. 

The toy was trapped between them, again. And Fareeha reached blindly for the bottle of lube nearby because she was filled with the overwhelming need to be _closer_. 

“Inside me.” Fareeha gasped as she forced her eyes open to look at Angela, who was already slipping the bottle out of her wife’s hand. “I just want you inside me.” 

Fareeha’s accent was a little heavier than usual in her breathless, dizzy haze. Angela had always loved that. She knew she did it, too, sometimes. She knew they both murmured words neither of them fully understood in their most heated, private moments. And it only served to deepen the connection they had. It only made them pay that much more attention to each other. 

Angela flicked open the cap of the bottle as she kissed the corner of Fareeha’s mouth, using one hand to press some of the slick liquid into her palm so she could coat the length of the toy with it.

It wasn't that Fareeha wasn't already wet, because by now she'd even begun to dampen the sheets beneath herself. It was just that it had been a long time, and Angela knew Fareeha enjoyed a slight sting and a good stretch, but not any real pain. Not when it came to this.

Maybe the only thing Angela wasn't prepared for was how it would feel to slowly fill the woman beneath her until they were both gasping and their hips were locked solidly together. Maybe she hadn't been prepared for how good it would feel, and maybe this happened every single time.

It was Fareeha’s turn to brush her lips against Angela's skin as she wrapped her arms around her and adjusted beneath her as her body accommodated the perfect, utterly filling girth of the toy. 

“You feel so good,” Fareeha whispered a little breathlessly as her thumb brushed against the nape of Angela’s neck. “You have no idea.” 

Angela slowly settled her weight down against Fareeha in response, and smiled faintly at the contented sigh this earned her. 

“I might have some idea.” Angela whispered as she brushed some of her wife’s hair away from her face and flexed her hips faintly. 

She exhaled sharply through her nose at the way the movement made Fareeha’s eyelids flutter and her lips part. 

“Your eyes still take my breath away.” Angela whispered as she moved her hips again. A little further back this time than the last before they came forward again. 

Fareeha locked eyes with Angela for a moment as she lifted a hand and brushed her calloused fingertips across the soft skin of her cheek. 

“I'm glad.” Her response was quiet. A little breathy. It spurred Angela on into steadier movements that left no more room for words and had them both clinging to each other as their bodies rocked in a rhythm that was remembered so quickly it was like they'd never lost it. 

Soon, though, Angela was arching her back to make room for Fareeha's hand between them as she felt her reaching for the place between her own legs that wasn't getting enough attention.

In a few days, Angela might pull that hand away and pin it against the pillow. She might tell Fareeha to be patient so that she could draw this out. But not now. Not when Fareeha was pleading with her in raspy, shortly-worded mumbles of words to fuck her harder. 

Angela did just that, instead. She pushed herself up onto her knees between Fareeha’s legs and steadied herself with her arms wrapped around her thighs as the movements of her hips grew sharper and deeper while Fareeha rubbed desperately against her own clit.

“Beautiful.” Angela managed to mutter - only just loud enough for Fareeha to hear her. 

And she was beautiful. With every muscle in her body tense, despite - or perhaps because of - the severe tan lines from her dog tags and her undershirt. Evidence of everything she'd been through over the past six months. A visual representation of just how long it had been since they'd had this. Since she'd come with Angela’s name on her lips followed by a series of desperate and breathless whimpers while she all but clawed at Angela to pull her back down. 

The emotion came next. The span of time neither of them counted when they moved onto their sides and stayed tangled against each other while they each shed tears and quiet sobs that mingled with murmured promises and declarations of a love that had never been shaken no matter the distance or time that came between them. 

It was here in the haven of Angela’s arms that Fareeha could allow herself to be the one to feel small and overwhelmed and safe all at once. 

An hour or two and a long soak together in their bath later, and Fareeha was sprawled along their couch in a pair of sweats and a tank top with her back against Angela’s chest as they shared pizza from the box that lay open on the coffee table. The first night was always Fareeha’s pick, and that was what she'd wanted. 

Angela couldn't really complain. It was a nice treat, and it made her wife happy. Her wife, who was so warm and real against her and kept chuckling quietly at whatever it was that was on the TV.

Angela wasn't really sure. She couldn't stop looking at Fareeha long enough to pay attention.

She couldn't stop being thankful enough to pay attention. 

Not even when Fareeha poked at her mouth with the end of a pizza slice after informing her she hadn't eaten enough. 

Angela took the bite, of course. She also ate the few toppings of her own that had made their way onto her wife’s half of the pizza and kept being offered to her in a similar manner.

And she wondered idly if she would ever stop smiling again as her cheeks began to ache.


End file.
